Night Bus
by annaktheslightlygay
Summary: It's a long journey from LA to Atlanta. Good thing a certain redhead is very entertaining...
1. Chapter 1: Night Bus

This was so **not** the plan. Beca couldn't quite believe that she was here at this very moment- it was an out of body experience if she'd ever had one.

"Next!" A voice called. Beca stepped up to the counter and the bored looking teller that manned it. "Where to?" Beca took up at the moving board just beyond the elderly man's head. It reminded her of those electronic display boards behind the cashiers at movie theatres that Jesse had always dragged her to. Except this time, it was times and places, not box office hits.

She turned her attention back to the display that was actually in front of her. "Atlanta," she huffed, obviously entirely done with the task at hand.

Beca found her seat easily, despite the late hour. She was determined to be there for her nagging boyfriend, even if it took all night. And day. And sleep? She looked at the cold window beside her, settling her stuff under her seat. Yeah, that was definitely not happening. She sighed, head back as she glanced to her right, noticing a girl struggle with a singular piece of luggage as she made her way down the aisle.

"Stupid thing." The girl said, obviously fed up with running her bag into every possible seat as she traveled passed Beca.

 _Same,_ was all Beca could think as she watched the girl who was wearing squirrel pajama bottoms as she headed further towards the back of the bus.

Sleep seemed to be an obvious choice of activity at this hour, but for some reason Beca almost had an itch– all of the sudden it was all her hands could do– to write, so she pulled out a napkin and pen in hand. The words came easier to her now than they had in months. I guess if she was forced to stay up this late, she might as well see if she could get something out of it, even with an exhausted brain. She glanced around. A beat began to form in her head. She could almost feel the music beginning to form in her head. If only she could get her hands on her mixing equipment...

The napkin was running out of much needed room. She fumbled around for her notebook that she knew she'd placed in her bag. Even as hurried as she was to get to the bus station, she wouldn't forget it.

But her fingers didn't feel the worn leather of her little black book as she became more frantic in her search through her bag. She reached down and placed in on her lap, growing desperate as she tried to peer into the dark bag that she _knew_ had to contain all of her song ideas. But she was wrong. The Beca Mitchell was wrong.

It wasn't the only thing she was wrong about tonight.

She sighed, head falling back onto her seat. She looked around, wondering if she looked as helpless as she felt. Her eyes flickered to her right, where a middle aged man was typing something with one finger with his phone placed on his lap. _Her phone. Of course._ She scrambled to write down the first few lines she had created in her head already.

 _I'm on the night bus  
I'm thinking about us  
The streetlights go fleeting by_

 _Creative._ She thought, with an internal eye roll at herself. Whatever. She'd come up with an amazing instrumental track to back it up later. It was a good start. Better than she'd had in months. It seemed like nothing in her life recently had inspired her to write _anything,_ and then, suddenly, when Jesse fucking started complaining that he didn't see her enough so she lost her mind and hopped on a night bus at two am to come down and see him, she could miraculously write again. _Huh. Figures._

The man next to her let out a hearty laugh, which prompted her to take her attention away from her needy boyfriend and toward the man. She smiled to herself. The next lines of her song.

 _The man sat next to me  
Is texting somebody  
I wonder what that feels like_

This was almost too easy. She was surprised she came up with this much so fast. She leaned back, her head colliding with the seat rest as she did so, willing more words to come to her.

 _One Minute. It's been two. Definitely going on five minutes now._

Literally nothing.

She thought back to Jesse, about how he begged her to be more attentive, more responsive in their relationship. It just didn't feel right. None of it really had. Afterall, he was the one who was always in control in their relationship. God knew how many movie nights she'd been dragged to.

She wanted to support his dream, she really did. But she didn't want to hear the _Jaws_ theme song one more time with the lights off she was going to scream. Or spontaneously combust. Or both. Probably both.

 _Maybe I'm reckless  
But I just can't shake this  
It follows me home at night  
At night_

 _It's getting clearer every mile we ride_

He was attractive, sure. But for lack of better words, she didn't make her heart sing. She couldn't see him and her sharing an apartment back in LA or anywhere for that matter; that's why she declined his offer when she first moved out. Something about wanting to get her bearings before she had a partner. A life partner. _Oh god. Was this it?_ Was this all she got in her life? Just a slightly quirky movie boy and a mid sized apartment where she'd struggle to let him hold her at night. She was too... well, _Beca_ for that. Settling just wasn't her style. She grit her teeth. The bus slowed to a stop. Her eyes brimmed them with tears. She thought she could smile them away, as the rain went down the window pane, but they fell too, along with the empty feeling she had in her chest. She knew what she had to do. She wiped away a stray tear, clearing her vision to stare at her phone screen once again.

 _Suddenly I know  
That I'm on my way home  
To you for the last time _

Just writing that, she knew, you know? She saw it on paper (well, phone screen, but close enough) and she knew those words rang true.

 _It's not what you wanted  
But I know you got this  
And you're gonna be fine  
Oh, I've just been watching  
The world as it's turning  
And that's what it feels like  
Suddenly I know  
That I'm on my way home  
To you for the last time _

Beca shifted in her seat, attempting to become more comfortable with the realization she'd just revealed. Their relationship was something he was always pushing, and it just seemed like after she'd forgiven him via song the only next logical step had been to give him what he'd really wanted– from the beginning: her. So she did. And god, it was so easy. It was so easy to let this boy care for her, and it was so easy to let him dictate the dates they had (because god, if _Beca_ had to do it– had to do anything really– she might spontaneously combust) and nearly everything else because it all had just seemed like _the way to go_.

She heard a collective groan from other passengers as the overhead lights flickered on, signaling another stop. Figuring that this time would be as good as any to empty her bladder without worrying about the unseen bags and limbs in the dark, she got up and looked towards the back of the bus, hoping to signal the man to her right that she needed to go. To her relief, the man was still fully awake, actively tapping away at his phone so Beca just had to clear her throat to clear her path to the isle. She did just that; awkwardly leaning over him to get to a place where even she could stand properly. She passed seats, one after another, fingers grasping the edges to keep her in line as the bus began to roll again.

She chuckled as a couple, grimaced as they looked around, the girl frowning as she looked toward the source of the light and Beca, as she passed.

 _I'm on the night bus  
That's crawling with lovers  
Who hide from the cold white light_

Beca had finally reached the back of the bus, the brightest of the lights flickering out as the bus left the nearest station. She'd stopped short of a young man arms crossing as she realized that she was not the only one who'd had the brilliant idea to use the facilities while the lights were at their brightest. Beca gazed out the window, wanting to study the scenery but instead finding herself gazing at her own features instead.

 _I see my reflection  
Dazed and complacent  
She follows me home at night  
At night  
It's getting clearer every mile we ride_

She took a deep sigh, prompting the guy in front of her to crane his neck around and give her a pointed stare. But it wasn't the bathroom she was worried about, nor was it Jesse's reaction to the news; it was what she was going to do with herself when she'd actually arrived in Atlanta. Surely, her dad and/or step monster would let her stay in the house. She looked at the time on her now low battery phone. It was just after 3 am. She still had another 4 hours on this freaking bus. She unlocked her phone, staring at the lyrics for her chorus once again. It was pretty damn good, if she did say so herself. She began tapping an array of possible rhythms on the side of her thigh, muttering the lyrics as she went.

 _Suddenly I know  
That I'm on my way home  
To you for the last time  
It's not what you wanted  
But I know you got this  
And you're gonna be fine  
Oh, I've just been watching  
The world as it's turning  
And that's what it feels like  
Suddenly I know_

Beca exited the enclosed space with the toilet, finally satisfied with the beat she'd come up with on her trip. She smiled to herself then, coming back down the aisle. For once in her life, she'd made a decision. A real, honest to goodness conclusion that she'd reached all on her own.

 _That I'm on my way home  
To you for the last time _

__Red hair blurred in the corner of her vision. Curls were sprawled all over the window pane, the girls face obscured by how she chose to rest– in the crook of her elbow.

"Chloe?" Beca questioned to the girl that was slouched in an oversized dark green sweatshirt,

Oops. She was obviously asleep. Still, Beca peered down at the girl, trying to see her more clearly through the hood that covered nearly half her face. _Stop, Beca_ , the voice inside her told her. Things we're beginning to look creepy. So she took another tentative step down the aisle towards her seat as she quickly glanced around. No one had noticed. Or, at least if they had, they weren't looking at her funny.

So her curiosity won out; she sidestepped into the girl that looked like Chloe's row, as a very determined older woman that was coming at her down the aisle. She glanced down. From the closer proximity she could see that it was definitely Chloe. Her insides began to woke up suddenly, all at once. Her heart began to pound at the excitement as she registered what this meant. She hadn't seen Chloe in nearly 5 years! A sense of dread washed over her, almost as fast as the excitement did. She was instantaneously overcome with all her memories of the girl, all of them warm and inviting, just like the girl herself.

 _At night  
At night  
At night  
It's getting clearer every mile we ride_

 __Beca plopped down in the adjacent seat, careful not to wake the angelic sleeping girl. She bit her lip. The forest green sweatshirt now so obviously displayed "The Barden Bellas" in signature font, and was offset by squirrel themed bottoms. She laughed: that was the most Chloe thing she'd seen in awhile; she couldn't believe she hadn't guessed earlier.

God, what were the chances? What were the chances that _the Chloe Beale_ would happen to be here, all alone, after all this time? She was still beaming and she knew it.

But in a flash, it was gone, overrun with anxious thoughts.

Did Chloe hate her?

They hadn't talked in probably a good eight months, and it was entirely the brunettes doing. Chloe had called her and texted her and even sent her a few funny snapchats playing with her dogs and Beca had seen every last one of them. But somehow, they were all left without responses. She'd opened them at work, or she'd been in the middle of a really good mix, or Jesse would call her and she'd feel more obligated to pick it up; after all, being a good girlfriend _had_ to come before everything else, right?

She'd neglected everything else in his wake, though. Nevermind Chloe, she'd lost touch with nearly every Bella, save for the occasional call from Emily to get her rolling with some lyrics to her latest mix.

Well shit.

Now she felt awful. She turned to go, not wanting to upset the likely very sleep deprived girl with her presence when she awoke.

Beca reached her seat and slid into it, head in her hands. How the hell would anyone, let alone sunshine girl Chloe Beale forgive her? She grabbed her phone, the words on her notes app now dancing in her vision, taunting her.

 _Suddenly I know  
That I'm on my way home  
To you for the last time  
It's not what you wanted  
But I know you got this  
And you're gonna be fine  
Oh, I've just been watching  
The world as it's turning  
And that's what it feels like_

She truly had no one left at home that had cared for her. After not seeing everyone everyday for so long, she'd managed to push them all away. She spun her phone around in her hands, her thumb and index finger trapping the device as she rotated it with her other hand. It wasn't her home, anymore, really. It hadn't felt that way in a long time. She'd always clung to Jesse like he was her last link to the place she'd grown up in, and due to her neglect, he really was.

And she was about to let him go too. But this, this was a connection she wanted to break. She was sure of it. It was one that wasn't really even there anymore.

So what did she have left?

Her thoughts went back to her former co-captain, resting soundly in a few rows back. Chloe was the exception– to nearly everything, really. To lingering touches and getting her to sing in showers and to letting Beca keep her up all night talking. She'd just lost touch with the girl; not forgotten her. Who could forget a girl like Chloe Beale?

 _She_ was always the one that had made Barden feel like home, not Jesse.

 _Suddenly I know  
That I'm on my way home  
To you for the last time _

Chloe was like a good melody. Sometimes gone, but never forgotten. It always returned; it was just that catchy.

And there she was: just a few seats behind the brunette. Beca abruptly got up, not bothering to give the texting man a warning ahead of time before she climbed over him and towards the girl. She plopped down in the seat next to the singer, smile returning.

Once she was settled, she pulled out her dying phone. It was at 2%. She quickly pulled up her and Jesse's messages from a week ago with shaking hands. She was worried that if her phone died right there and then that she'd eventually talk herself out of what she was about to do once her phone had charge in it. She clicked the box to pull the keyboard up, her thumbs scrambling to type out her message.

'Jess– I just don't think we're working anymore.'

She tapped the send button repeatedly, re-reading the text as it went through.

The redhead in front of her shifted in her sleep. Jeez, she was beautiful, even in her sleep.

The sound of a text coming through an already open conversation sounded, prompting Beca to tear her eyes away from the girl and back towards the screen.

'Becs– I feel the same way.'

And then, darkness and a loading symbol that meant a broader conversation would have to wait.

The redhead opened her circulian eyes.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

"B-Becs?"


	2. Chapter 2: Miss You

'So... what have you been doing?' Chloe typed out her text to the best friend she seldom spoke to anymore. It was her best attempt of being casual, and not coming off as desperate as she felt. Yeah, okay... so she was failing miserably.

But there was always a nagging ever present thought that was at the forefront of her mind whenever she got up enough courage to get a conversation going with her former co captain.

 _What if she doesn't respond, like last time?_

Her thumbs danced over the screen, eyeing the send button but having no intention actually touching it. That is, until the blue bar at the top of her messaging screen began to load ridiculously fast. Who knew she had such good service while driving across the country?

 _Dang, dang, dang, dang..._ Her heart fumbled in her chest as she frantically swiped up to reveal the screen that had 'airplane mode' as an option, and pressed it repeatedly until she was sure the message had, in fact, not delivered.

She shook her head, feeling stupid that she got so worked up about a stupid text– but she typed out the question with no intention of sending it. The brunette on the other end almost never responded to things she sent anymore.

The moment Chloe woke up she'd glance at her phone, often seeing "no notifications" in her iphone's classic font or, on the off chance she got a single snapchat notification, it would be Stacie, telling her to get her butt back down to Atlanta ASAP– for no other reason than saying that Aubrey was being especially mental that day. Even without contact with Beca, she'd spend most mornings trying to come up with something cute or fun or just generally response worthy to show to her former co captain, though it rarely worked.

She knew Beca wasn't ignoring her, though. She'd 'like' her occasional instagram post and made a point to keep their snapchat streak going, even though the only thing the redhead ever saw was a blurry photo of the girl's computer or a pitch black photo.

Something told her that the brunette was simply just busy; LA was a big place and she was trying to find a way to make herself known. Another voice told her that it was simply because they didn't have anything in common anymore; the Bellas had long since been over and maybe the two former best friends really didn't get along as well as everyone thought.

Why was Chloe bothering to think about the dormant brunette anyway?

It all went back to that laugh. She'd heard it amongst her struggles when she first boarded this suffocating tin can that she'd have to be on for the next few days until she reached Atlanta. Her suitcase, being the only one she could find when she'd made the decision to come visit some of her former Bellas for the weekend, was ridiculously oversized for the trip, considering almost half of it would be spent right here, on this stupid bus. At least she'd splurged for the trip home: buying herself an airline ticket for a much more pleasant ride back to her rainy city.

For a sunshine girl like Chloe Beale, it kind of amazed everyone when she chose Seattle as her semi-maybe-permanent-she-didn't-know-home. The decision was also currently biting her in the ass as this was her second bus trip, and she still hadn't really bothered to change from her Bellas sweatshirt and classy pj bottoms at the station, running late, as usual.

But as she struggled to find her last minute seat on the only partially full bus (it was a Wednesday, afterall) and that girl's laugh had brought her back to the entire situation with Beca.

It had been 5 years. Why couldn't she let this certain girl go?

She hardly knew anything about Beca's 'new' life, or even how the brunette was doing. And maybe, one day soon, she'd ask.

She glanced back down at the undelivered text. _But today is not that day_ , she thought, powering her phone down. So she rolled over in her seat, facing the window but taking care to not to rest her head on the vibrating window pane (she knew from her previous ride that that did nothing but turn her brain into a smoothie with a splitting headache) and did what the brunette that was on her mind was best at: avoiding her problems with sleep.

"B-Becs?" Chloe's eyes were still heavily hooded from sleep when she was able to finally grasp the name of her former co-captain sitting across from her.

The brunette smiled, actually _smiled_ at Chloe. The older girl furrowed her brows, a bit dazed by that response. Beca never smiled. Well, okay. She smiled when she was drunk. She smiled when she had been offered that big new fancy job up in LA. And nothing made her smile like when Chloe brought her chicken nuggets when she was cooped up during finals week, studying. But how could little old Chloe Beale be deserving of such a gift like a Beca smile?

"Um, uh," Chloe used her arms to position herself so she was more upright, head spinning with questions this early in the... Wait, was it even morning?

Beca seemed to sense the girl's still tired state, saying, "It's about 5am, Chlo," _There was that nickname. Ah!_ "You can go back to sleep," Beca finished gently, soft smile still apparent. Maybe this _was_ the new Beca. Afterall, they hadn't seen each other in how long?

Chloe thought about the girl's proposal for a moment, but she was already shaking her head, trying to replay the past few hours to try and find a logical reason why _the_ Beca Mitchell currently accompanied her on this spontaneous road trip.. She cleared the mess of a mane she called her hair from her face. "Hi," she said sleepily, softly, as if this was one of those 'dream inside a dream' scenarios.

"How are you?" she said, lending the girl a smile. Man, if dreams really did reveal your true desires, this one was spot on.

As much as she wanted to hug the smaller girl, she was conscious of Beca's dislike of touch, so she settled for taking Beca's hands in her own, sincerity dripping from her voice.

"I'm- uh, I'm good," She paused, as if she was unsure. "I think." She looked up at the redhead, eyes sparkling.

What was that about? She made a mental note for later, quickly vollying the question back over to the brunette.

"How are you?" The inflection of her voice almost gave the effect they were strangers. But Beca cleared her throat, revising her question.

"How are you, _really_?"

It wasn't much like Beca to take an ernest interest in someone else's 'personal crap' as she'd deemed it in college. But this was the "new" Beca. The Beca that she hadn't seen in years. The one who had obviously missed her, by her permitting Chloe to take her hand as she spoke.

 _Oh-man-oh-man-oh-man_ , Chloe's heart was beating to the rhythm of her thoughts and–

God, she'd been stupid. She'd was stupid to think that right here, right now, after all this time that she could trust herself and her heart for her feelings not to come back. She held the girl's hand, occasionally twitching her fingers to remind herself of the true gift Beca was giving her by maintaining physical contact, answering her question.

'How are you, _really_?'

She began with what she'd been doing here, on the bus. And then her almost text. It was word vomit from there, for sure, but the brunette let her keep talking, occupying the early hours of daylight with all of her thoughts she hadn't gotten to tell her best friend.

 _So what you been doing?_

 _I've been loving my life waking up on my own_

 _Are you doing the same thing?_

 _You can say if you like but I don't need to know_

 _And I, I've been wondering why we've been waste all this time_

 _So what you been doing?_

 _I thought that I saw you, I guess I was wrong_

The girl opposite of Chloe laughed at that, telling her that she'd thought the same thing with her choice of words when Chloe had first entered the bus.

 _Are you doing the same thing?_

The redhead left off with the question, wanting to know about her life in LA. And, you know, the relationship part. But only because she had the privilege of holding the girl's hand, and she'd feel awful for stealing Jesse's girl.

 _Convincing yourself you're better alone_

It was a hope Chloe had that she had a sudden urge to fix. But among Beca telling her all about her life and small, one bedroom apartment she resided in, Chloe couldn't quite work out if Jesse also occupied the same space. The way Beca's work schedule went, she couldn't imagine having time for another person. And suddenly the dull pain of fear of being ignored subsided, knowing that what Beca had been doing was in no way intentional, and she'd answered Chloes question of: yes, it was Beca _not_ her, and yes– she'd been the worst friend ever. But she'd been an even worse girlfriend.

Beca trailed off, explaining that that was why she was on this 'fucking bus'.

Chloe's thoughts filled the silence, though she chose not to share any of them aloud.

 _And I could tell you how you never left my mind_

"But I'm so glad that it's _you_ on this bus," Beca said earnestly after reworking her courage to continue a conversation with her long time friend. "I really missed you," she lent Chloe one of her sloppy smiles.

 _Then you tell me that you miss me and I'm like_

 _Oh God, I miss you too_

 _It's all I ever do_

 _I'm coming back to you_

 _And I won't let go_

 _Oh God, I miss you too_

 _We got making up to do_

 _I'm coming back to you_

 _And I won't let go again_

 _Oh, I won't let go again_

Beca had soon moved all of her personal belongings from her original seat to her new and improved one, taking only a brief break from what they were talking about (Taylor Swift's social media blackout, of all things) to retrieve her stuff. The topic reminded her and her now very dead phone, but she resisted the urge to beg the patrons around her for a charger they _definitely_ were not going to give her, because man, Chloe's eyes were kinda captivating. And it seemed like a crime to look away when someone was telling her all about the last five years of her life. It seemed like too much, almost, the way Chloe was being so open and honest. She was surprised, really, that after all the brunette had done, Chloe was still her same 'ole chipper self– ready to share and help with whatever Beca needed.

Her mind shifted back to when she'd last seen the redhead. It was spring break and also the last time Beca had seen the girl in front of her in person. She shuddered. How did things go so wrong?

 _So what were we thinking?_

 _You got me a cab and we said we were done_

 _And I thought I was fine_

 _But the days were so long and they rolled into one_

 _And I, I couldn't believe you were taking it in your stride_

 _Then you tell me that you miss me and I'm like..._

(PART 2, "Say Nothing" COMING SOON!)


End file.
